


Watch Him Shiver, Watch Him Shake

by rixsig-writes (rixsig)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, boys playing videogames, seven can't keep his hands off him though, seven in denial, things get steamy, yoosung doesn't do horror but he's a brave boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rixsig/pseuds/rixsig-writes
Summary: Seven gets Yoosung to play a horror game with him with unexpected consequences.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [watarutxt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/watarutxt/gifts).



> Dedicated to @yookims and @ploppypeach THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT
> 
> Set not on Seven's route so Seven is still an unresolved mess.

Seven glances at the time. Ten after Yoosung said he’d be here. Seven smiles a wolfish smile and double-checks his preparations. Low, spooky lighting? Check. Ambient noises and other sound effects Seven can trip at will? Check. The best, most suspenseful, and violent videogame to come out in the past decade? Absolutely 100% check.

Seven spins gleefully around in his computer chair while he waits. He’s been working nonstop for the past week with only the promise of this day keeping him going. Just hours and hours and hours of thankless work and little sleep in an endless parade, but now, but _now_ he gets to have his fun.

Finally his phone lights up. His impulse is to answer it immediately but he holds himself back. One ring, two ring, three ring, ring ring ring! It goes to voicemail and Seven waits. Another ring, another ring, ring ring ring! Seven restrains himself until the last minute and then pounces, accepting the call with his leg bouncing.

“Sevennnnnn,” Yoosung sobs, “Why’d you have to change the password! I’d just learned the last one! I’ve been out here forever trying to google what it wants but nothing’s coming up!”

“Ooooooh~? You tried to cheat???? But if you do that all my hard work will go to waste!”

“What hard work?!” Seven can hear Yoosung bang his fist on the door through the phone. Of course, his soundproofing is excellent so even if Yoosung had been doing that for, oh, the past ten or so minutes he would have never known. “What are you talking about??”

“I’ve been teaching you Arabic!” Seven proclaims with enthusiasm, “If I change it each time you come you’ll have all the basic phrases by next year!”

“I keep telling you I don’t need to know Arabic!! When would I ever use Arabic?” Yoosung wails, “Sevennnnn, just let me innnnnnnnnn.”

Seven lets him suffer for a little while longer before opening the door from the inside. Yoosung stumbles in, barely catching himself from tipping over onto the floor. Seven can’t help himself from giggling fondly.

Yoosung scowls, straightening up. “Seven, why can’t my phone google anything.”

“Because I disabled your internet,” Seven says, waving a hand dismissively, “I was going to disable the chip in your phone but I hacked your service provider instead since it was more fun. Don’t worry about it.”

“My internet?! All of it?!” Yoosung yelps, “Put it back! I have a raid tomor—”

Yoosung stops mid-sentence and squints intently at him.

“What?” Seven freezes.

Yoosung takes a couple steps closer until he’s right in Seven’s face, peering up into his eyes. Seven feels terribly exposed. He wobbles back but Yoosung just follows him. “Are you okay?” Yoosung asks, brushing the fringe of Seven’s hair away from his eyes, “Wow, your dark circles are even worse than mine. Maybe you should just take a nap instead—”

“No, I’m fine,” Seven bats Yoosung’s hand to the side and turns away, keeping his expression purposefully neutral. He walks over to the couch and tries to ignore the way his ears are burning. Thank God he had the foresight to lower the lights...this sort of thing is always so much easier to deflect online…

“Are you sure?” Yoosung calls from behind him.

Yes of course he’s sure. Sleep is easy. He can get sleep any old time: fifteen minutes in his computer chair, an hour on the couch, a lucky full night’s rest in his bed once in a blue moon, but Yoosung here at his place? No missions to work on, no Vanderwood snooping around, nothing else demanding his focus? Seven’ll sleep when he’s dead.

“Yeah,” Seven says, “Come over here.”

Yoosung follows him to the couch and sets his backpack on the floor before sitting down next to him. “So you said you had a cool game we could play?” Yoosung fidgets with excitement. “You wouldn’t tell me what it was before, so I’m really curious…”

Seven grabs the TV remote with one hand and flashes the empty game case with the other. “Ta-da~!” He tosses the case into Yoosung’s lap without looking and turns the TV on, changing it to the right input. He watches out of the corner of his eye for Yoosung’s reaction.

“U-um, Seven?” Yoosung’s staring at the game case, pale-faced, hands hovering in mid-air like he’s afraid to even touch it, “Y-you never told me it was a horror game.”

“Problem?” Seven grabs a controller and turns the power on to the console. The logo appears on the screen and fades out to the console menu.

“I, uh, I’m really bad with horror stuff.”

“Mm-hmm, I know.” Seven clicks on the game icon.

“...” Yoosung can’t seem to find anything to say. It’s cute.

“Did you know you can increase your tolerance for scary things by watching and playing them more often?”

“R-really?” Yoosung perks up, “I mean, I guess that would be pretty nice…”

“Great!” Seven shoves the controller into Yoosung’s hands, “I’ll be rooting for you!”

“Me?!! No, no, no aren’t _you_ going to play it?” Yoosung tries to shove it back, but Seven dodges easily.

“No way, you’re the one that wants to increase his tolerance right? It’ll work best if you’re the one playing.”

Yoosung wavers visibly.

“Besides, the beginning’s always the easiest part! And if you don’t play it first then you’ll just have to play it second~”

“Okay,” Yoosung blurts, tightening his grip and pulling the controller to his chest, “Right, I can do this. It’ll be fine. It’s just a videogame. And I’m not alone. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine, right?” Yoosung turns, looking at Seven pleadingly. His violet eyes are all wide and—

“Absolutely,” Seven replies. The sudden warmth in his chest makes him sound less jovial and more sincere than he means to, so he laughs it off and reaches over to push the start button on the controller. The game menu fades into the game’s intro sequence and Yoosung squawks in surprise.

“Wait, wait, I’m not ready yet, oh my god—”

“There’s no time like the present!” Seven says cheerfully, making himself comfortable by sitting with his legs criss-crossed and his body slouched forward so he can anchor his elbows by his knees and rest his face in his hands. It’s the perfect position for pretending like he’s super focused on the TV and nothing else.

The opening cinematic for the game is nice if a bit cliche: a man driving in an old pick-up truck through a desert is forced to stop in a tiny little town because the car starts breaking down. He’s able to make it to the town’s only mechanic, but there’s something clearly off about the guy. It’s just the right mix of normal and eerie, enough to set off the player’s warning bells without actually being outright scary.

“See, it’s not that bad,” Seven says.

“Yeah I g-guess it’s n— ACK—!” Yoosung jolts, almost dropping his controller when the mechanic slams his wrench down on the counter and storms off. “O-oh no oh no oh no, it’s starting isn’t it? There’s gonna be monsters or something and they’re going to try to eat me and all I’m going to have is this _stupid wrench_ oh my god.”

Sure enough, the cinematic ends and the player character stands in the middle of the room looking at the counter. The on-screen prompt urges the player to pick up the wrench.

“No, no, no, I don’t want to, I really don’t want to,” Yoosung babbles, “Seven, come on, you do it!”

“Mmmmmnope! It’s your turn!”

“But if I never pick it up then the m-monsters will never come and everything is safe forever, that sounds nice doesn’t it? I-I’ll just stand here and everything will be fine!”

Yoosung’s frantic little voice shoots up into a squeak by the end and Seven guffaws into his own palm, “Y-you can’t just leave the poor protagonist stranded in the lobby of the mechanic’s place! Are you trying to keep him frozen in suspense forever? How could you be so cruel?!”

“B-but…”

“Free him, Yoosung!” Seven urges.

Yoosung gulps and walks his character over to the counter. He hesitates.

Seven starts chanting, pumping a fist up and down,  “Free! Him! Free! Him! Free! Him!”

Yoosung takes a deep breath and finally picks up the wrench. Immediately the lights in the mechanic shop flicker. “Oh god,” Yoosung moans, “I knew it.” Then the windows rattle and all the lightbulbs fizzle and pop out one by one. A wet growl comes from the darkness and Yoosung shrieks, somehow managing to get his character to turn around and flee through the front door even though his hands are shaking.

“Oh wooooow,” Seven says, impressed, “You didn’t die.”

“Were you expecting me to?!” Yoosung has his character running with abandon down the town’s main street. There’s no one to be seen.

“Aren’t you going to explore?” Seven uncrosses his legs and turns toward Yoosung, “You’re going to miss a lot of things if you don’t look around a little.”

“Have you already played this?” Yoosung accuses. He doesn’t slow his character down.

“Nooo, I was waiting for you so we could share this experience _together_.”

Yoosung ignores him, still running. Eventually he reaches the edge of town, but, unsurprisingly, he finds himself unable to leave. The road just...ends. Along with literally everything else. There’s a solid wall of fog surrounding the town limits in an unbroken circle. Yoosung makes his character walk into it, but the moment the character tries he’s overcome by a severe coughing fit. The skin of his face and even the skin of his hands go red. The character can’t even touch it safely.

Yoosung hangs his head. “Of course…”

And of course it’s when he’s driven into a corner like this that all hell breaks loose. Monsters ooze from cracks in the ground, surrounding him, and Yoosung panics, losing his shit, swinging the wrench at random, and making a break for it. Miraculously, he makes it through.

“HAHAHAHA I c-can’t believe that worked!” Seven cackles, “You’re actually a genius at this, aren’t you?”

“Sevennnnn,” Yoosung sobs, “Please take over for meeee.”

“Ah ah ah! It hasn’t been nearly long enough for that.” Seven tsks, “Just hang in there a little while longer. You can do that, can’t you?”

And Yoosung tries his best. It’s amazing how well he does even when scared out of his mind. He jumps at every little sound and freaks out at every single jump scare, but his gamer reflexes never betray him. He never slows down to smell the roses, or well...find any of the lore at all, but he doesn’t die. Not even once. Not even when Seven tries to sabotage him by playing a scary scraping sound over the speakers, even if he does squeal most impressively.

He _is_ scooting closer and closer to Seven though. They started out with a full couch cushion’s worth of space in between them but now Yoosung is only a hair’s width away. It certainly wasn’t Seven who moved either. He’s made sure to keep very, very still. It’s funny. He’s been laughing so hard this entire time but suddenly he doesn’t feel like laughing anymore. Every time Yoosung jitters and shakes he can almost feel Yoosung’s forearm brush against his. He should have thought to wear his jacket. Or at least a long-sleeve shirt. Why didn’t he put on his jacket? Why is he wearing a tank-top right now? He’s made a mistake.

Yoosung launches himself into Seven’s side when a monster’s hand grabs onto the character’s ankle and starts dragging him away. Quick-time prompts flash on the screen and Yoosung somehow still aces every one even with half his face pressed into Seven’s bare shoulder. If Seven turns his head just a little bit he could bury his face in Yoosung’s hair. His heart pounds in his throat. This was a mistake. He wants to do so much right now, and the worst part is Yoosung would probably let him.

“Oh my~! Trying to cozy up to me when I’m watching something scary?” Seven coos, slipping an arm around Yoosung’s back and pulling him closer, “I didn’t know you were so sly. You’re going to make my maiden heart beat faster…”

He’s trying to break the mood. His overacting should have broken the mood, right? But Yoosung barely pays him any attention, just plastering himself into Seven’s side as if he belongs there, still single-mindedly trying to prevent his character from dying a grizzly death. Seven can feel every tremble Yoosung makes, every quick breath. Seven feels like he’s been plugged into an electric socket, he’s so hyper-aware. This was a mistake. Why does he keep making mistakes lately?

Yoosung finally rescues his character from the jaws of doom and slumps, catching his breath. His chest is rising and falling so fast...Seven can see Yoosung’s heartbeat in the way the artery in his neck jumps.

“My turn,” Seven says.

“W-what?”

“I said, my turn!” Seven grabs the controller and pulls Yoosung into his lap.

Yoosung flails about, disoriented. “Wait, what are you doing??”

Seven arranges him until he’s comfortable, cages him with his arms, and props his chin on Yoosung’s shoulder. There, now he can see the TV, pin Yoosung in place, and hold the controller all at once! Perfect! If he’s already going to hell for a lack of impulse control, he might as well go all the way!

“Playing the game, of course,” Seven says, moving the character forward.

“No, I mean—EEEK!!!”

Luckily a monster launches itself from the ceiling into the camera, completely derailing Yoosung’s train of thought. He flings himself backwards into Seven so that there’s no space in between them at all, the entire length of his back pressed against Seven’s chest. He shivers in Seven’s arms.

Ooooh how he wants his hands to be free right now so he can feel it through his fingertips too, so he can turn Yoosung’s face towards him and see his eyes tear up and his lips tremble. When he glances away from the screen he can see Yoosung’s neck flow into his collarbone and a peek of his chest when he looks down his shirt. Seven is amazed with how well he can torture himself: setting up such a perfect situation that he can’t—shouldn’t—take advantage of.

“Are you even looking where you’re going??” Yoosung shrieks.

 _Oh whoops. No. Hehehehe...._ Seven redirects his focus and barely prevents his character from smashing into a wall. As he makes the character creep down the next hallway he notices his mouth is right next to Yoosung’s ear. There it is: unsuspecting, innocent, tempting. He opens his mouth and blows into it.

“BWAAAAAH!!!” Yoosung jumps. When Seven laughs he scowls and jams his elbow back into Seven’s stomach, “Why would you do thaaaat,” He whines.

“Oof!” Seven wheezes, “Hahaha, what? How am I supposed to resist when you’re so cute—” Oh wait no, too genuine again, go back, go back, “—I mean, hahaha, look how scared you still are, you’re so ripe for teasing~”

Yoosung makes to turn around, offended, but Seven scrambles to wrap his right arm around his waist to keep him facing forward. “Seven!” Yoosung chides, “You’re going to get us killed. You can’t play with one hand!”

“Yes I can, see? I can move the character around and everything! Camera’s a bit tricky though...”

“Oh my god.” Yoosung tries to pry Seven’s arm from his middle so he can force Seven to play normally with only mild success. Seven fights him every step of the way, “At least play the game right, why are you doing this???”

 _Because if you look at me right now I’m going to crumble into a million, billion pieces_ , Seven doesn’t say.

Yoosung’s focusing his efforts on Seven’s hand now that he’s managed to wrest the arm off of him, grabbing the wrist with one hand and the forearm with the other and pushing with all his might. He really is stronger than he looks...if Seven doesn’t do something soon he might lose. But what can he do with both of his hands occupied? The only thing he can move right now is—

Seven leans forward and draws his nose up the side of Yoosung’s neck. Yoosung yelps and drops Seven’s arm, and before Yoosung can recover Seven’s arm is wrapped around him again. Yoosung groans in frustration.

“Stop scaring me like that, my voice is getting all hoarse…”

Seven’s noticed. It sounds good on him.

“Seven, pay attention!” Yoosung grabs the other side of the controller and presses the button to swing the wrench, knocking a monster to the side while Seven keeps the character running with the joystick.

“Nice save!” Seven praises, “Maybe we should play the rest of it like this?”

“NO.”

At that moment the entire ground shakes in-game, a crevice splitting the floor under the character’s feet. Yoosung slams the pause button and in the process nearly slaps the controller from Seven’s hand.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Yoosung moans, putting his hands over his face, “Watching you play is giving me a heart attack.”

“Hmmmm,” Seven says, “Guess that means it’s your turn again.”

“Wait, what?”

Seven drops the controller in Yoosung’s lap. “Only you can save us, hero!!!”

“Can’t we just take a break? I’m exhausted…”

“Not in the middle of a heart-pounding moment like this!” Seven mock-gasps.

“Fiiiiiiiine.” Yoosung picks up the controller, unpauses, and is immediately hit with another long quick-time event sequence as the character falls into the crevice.

And now, _now_ Seven is faced with a Yoosung in his lap and a whole two hands free. Without even consciously willing it he starts playing with the hem of Yoosung’s shirt. This sort of freedom is intoxicating, dangerous. Seven keeps slipping further and further past the line of things he’d banned from himself for everyone else’s own good. He makes a fool of himself and keeps his distance for a reason, but reason is seeping out of his brain with every second he has Yoosung within reach like this. Seven’s fingers brush the slice of skin under Yoosung’s shirt.

Yoosung misses a button prompt in a fit of laughter, “S-s-seven stop that, that tickles!”

“Oooooooh~?” Seven digs his fingers into Yoosung’s sides and Yoosung crumples in half, squirming helplessly, “You better pay attention, Yoosung. You still have to get us out of here alive, you know.”

“I-I’m trying! Stop tickling me!” Yoosung unfolds himself and flings himself back, trying to smush Seven into compliance, but Seven’s ready. He flings his arms wide and envelops him in a bear hug instead.

Yoosung misses the last two button prompts and the character lands flat on his face at the bottom of the crevice. “Sevennnnnnnnn.”

“What, we haven’t died yet.”

Yoosung wiggles until his arms are free and gets back to playing. He doesn’t do a thing about Seven embracing the rest of him, Seven notes. He hasn’t done anything this whole time about Seven being up in his space and moving him around and putting his hands on him and—Seven tries to cut himself off right there but the effort is fruitless. His brain is already running away from him with all the things that Yoosung might let him get away with.

The curve of Yoosung’s neck is _right there_ , and it’s a crime that he hasn’t touched it with anything other than the tip of his nose. Wouldn’t he be forgiven if he slipped just a little, just once? Can’t he indulge himself just once and then go back? Seven tightens his hold on Yoosung and buries his face into the crook of his neck, ignoring the uncomfortable press of his glasses. Yoosung’s skin against his lips feels like relief, like risk. Seven’s heart pounds.

“Seven…?” Yoosung says, sounding breathless.

Seven opens his mouth and licks, tasting sweat. Then he trails his mouth up along the line of Yoosung’s neck and licks again under his ear. Yoosung keeps completely still, like he’s afraid he’ll scare Seven off by moving, his breathing picking up tempo. The game plays on unpaused in the background but neither of them are paying attention anymore. Seven nips at the pulse in Yoosung’s throat testingly, and Yoosung grips the controller so hard it creaks. He bites again, harder, and Yoosung whimpers softly. Seven’s arousal flares.

The moment hangs. They could still come back from this, maybe. Laugh it off. Pretend it didn’t happen.

Seven is fighting to keep his hips still but Yoosung grinds down on top of him and Seven’s restraint snaps. He rolls them up with a hiss and shoves a hand up Yoosung’s shirt so he can run his hand up Yoosung’s chest and drag his nails into his skin on the way down. Yoosung arches into it, gasping.

“Seven...Luciel…”

 _Saeyoung_ , a part of Seven’s mind corrects. He takes his other hand and traces Yoosung’s lips, then slips his fingers inside his mouth. The controller drops out of Yoosung’s hands and thumps on the floor, but Seven doesn’t have the time to laugh at it. The thought’s driven out of his mind the moment Yoosung starts enthusiastically laving his fingers with his tongue. _Shit._

He pumps his fingers in and out in time with the rolling of his hips and Yoosung moans around them, spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Seven tows him closer by the waist and licks it up. He’s going crazy. He wants more. He needs to feel more skin than this. He leans back and pulls his fingers out, and Yoosung whines in disappointment, trying to follow them.

Seven tugs up on Yoosung’s shirts and Yoosung quickly catches on, shedding both his overshirt and his t-shirt before turning around in Seven’s lap and straddling him. Seven doesn’t think to stop him in time and now he’s hit full-force with the sight of Yoosung bare-chested and needy. Yoosung stares at him hungrily. It strikes him dumb and he puts up no resistance when Yoosung pulls Seven’s tank-top over his head, knocking his glasses off with it.

Seven regains enough of his senses to pull Yoosung closer until all their bare skin is touching. This time it’s Seven who’s shaking. Yoosung reaches up with both hands, threads his fingers into Seven’s hair, and slots their mouths together. Neither of them are practiced enough or patient enough to be very good at kissing, but they’re already fired up enough to enjoy licking inexpertly into each other’s mouths. Seven’s hips buck again and soon they’re grinding against each other as they slide their tongues together.

Yoosung pulls back, panting. “Please…”

“Please what?” Seven leans forward and sucks a mark into Yoosung’s shoulder.

“ _Anything_ ,” Yoosung paws at the button of Seven’s jeans and manages to pop it open on the second try. He tugs the zipper down and shoves his hand in, wrapping his hand around Seven’s dick. Seven abruptly loses all the air in his lungs.

When Yoosung pulls him out and starts pumping, Seven rests his head on Yoosung’s shoulder and just focuses on breathing for a moment. “Slower,” Seven says, “Longer at the head.”

Seven moans when Yoosung adjusts accordingly and then works on undoing Yoosung’s pants. It takes him more than two attempts, being so distracted, but the sound Yoosung makes when he succeeds and wraps his hand around him makes it worth it. When Seven starts jacking him off the only thing Yoosung tells him is to go harder, rougher. Seven tightens his grip, but apparently it’s not enough.

“Don’t be careful with me,” Yoosung gasps.

So he isn’t. He works him over in a way that anyone else would think is painful, but Yoosung drinks it up, moaning brokenly as he tries to keep the pace of his hand steady for Seven. Their hips pick up speed, both rapidly approaching the edge, and Seven bites deeply into Yoosung’s shoulder. Yoosung spills over with a cry, hand faltering. Seven jerks his hips into a fist that’s too loose and groans in frustration.

After a second Yoosung gets a hold of himself and moves his hand again, but this time intentionally and tortuously slow.

“Yoosung…” Seven complains, at the end of his wits.

On the upstroke Yoosung swirls his palm around the head and slips his other hand down Seven’s pants to squeeze his balls. Seven grips the back of Yoosung’s neck and with another few pumps of Yoosung’s hand he’s gone over the edge, breathing hard.

Seven tips over sideways and lies down on the couch, dragging Yoosung down on top of him. They stay there for a couple minutes, cuddling and basking in the glow until the high gradually fades and the reality of what he’s done hits Seven like a bag of bricks. He can indulge himself once? One slip over the line and then he can go back? He’s _an idiot._ Seven throws an arm over his face and despairs.

“...Seven?” Yoosung props himself up on Seven’s chest, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Seven answers flatly, “I shouldn’t have done this.”

“Wh...what?” Yoosung looks distraught.

Good, better to rip it off fast then to let it linger. “I shouldn’t involve you with me like this. This was a mistake.”

“I...what are you talking about?” Yoosung demands, “What do you mean involved? I’ve been involved with you for ages, what’s so different about this?”

He’s not wrong. Yoosung’s been coming over far too often. Seven’s been inviting him over whenever possible, whenever he’s had any time free, to the point where he can’t claim they’re casual friends anymore. He’s been sliding down this slope for months now and here’s the inevitable conclusion: the final descent into dumbassery.

Seven pushes Yoosung off of him and gets off the couch, retrieving his shirt and putting it on with his back turned to him. “We should put more distance between us. It’s safer that way.”

What?! No!” Yoosung bolts up, grabs Seven’s elbow, and forcibly turns him around. He visibly steels himself, shoulders stiff, and locks his eyes with Seven’s. “I-I’m not leaving.” He says, voice shaking, “I love you.”

A gunshot wouldn’t have been more effective. Seven staggers.  No, no, no, no, no, he wasn’t planning for this; he wasn’t thinking that this would—he just wasn’t _thinking_.

“You don’t even know me,” Seven says, “You don’t even know who I am.”

Yoosung hugs him. Seven stiffens, not knowing what to do.

“I don’t know a lot of things about you,” Yoosung admits, “But I know you."

“I’m not happy all the time.” Seven tries. If he throws the right thing out there then maybe Yoosung will finally get it—

Yoosung snorts fondly. “Yeah, I know. You’re really moody, actually.”

“People might come after me. People might come after you.”

“I know what your job is Seven,” Yoosung punches Seven’s side lightly, “I’m not stupid!”

“Could have fooled me. I’m telling you, you should leave.”

“No,” Yoosung shakes his head, “I told you I’m not leaving. You can’t make me.”

Actually he could. He could knock Yoosung out and take him home and configure the security system to never let him in again. That’s what he _should_ do. That would be for the best. Instead, Seven finds himself hugging Yoosung in return. His impulse control really has been going to shit lately. But well, if he’s already going to hell he might as well make it worthwhile, right?

“You’re not allowed to regret this.” Seven mumbles, muffling it in Yoosung’s hair.

“I won’t.” Yoosung smiles, eyes bright.

Seven shifts his weight and accidently bumps into the controller on the floor. The TV screen suddenly undims and the volume comes back on at full blast in a cacophony of eery music and slithery monster noises. They both jump in surprise.

“Oh hey look,” Seven says, “We’re not dead yet.”

Yoosung laughs and bends down, picking up his t-shirt and the controller. He tosses the controller to Seven and pulls his shirt back on. “Your turn!” Yoosung says, “But you better play for real this time.”

“I’ll try my best.” Seven promises, voice warm.

  
And he does.

**Author's Note:**

> i struggled hardcore with this lmao hope it's alright anyway
> 
> EDIT:  
> everyone look at this super cute fanart someone drew based on this fic!!!  
> http://reallyreallylazy.tumblr.com/post/156184027107/please-read-this-fic


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